


Opening the door leads to all kinds of changes

by Calypso_248



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2437895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calypso_248/pseuds/Calypso_248
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the Prisoner of Azkaban. When Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban, Dumbledore offers Remus Lupin the Defence Against the Dark Arts post to keep him and his eleven-year old daughter out of harms way. Hope, like Harry, soon begins to see a mysterious black dog leading her to question everything she thought she knew about her family and heritage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opening the door leads to all kinds of changes

**Chapter One: Everything’s changing when I’d prefer it to stay the same**

At an early age Hope Lupin had learnt to never expect visitors, but yet here one was walking up the gravelly driveway.

She was crouched on her knees, only her eyes and nose peeking out through the front window of her home, curiously watching the man as he rang the doorbell. The shrill sound echoed throughout the cottage but she made no move to answer it. She was too fascinated by the visitor to react.

He had an air of eccentricity about him, his long white beard tucked into belt and his robes were brightly coloured in a rather vivid shade of royal purple. He had a long crooked nose with a pair of crescent moon glasses perched on the end, and he seemed so very old. She thought him perhaps even older then Mrs Thomas who lived down the street.

The man suddenly looked at the window and she ducked out of sight, fairly certain that he had seen her. She considered crawling across the living room on her belly and hiding behind the couch until he left, but as she had found out through numerous imaginary games she had played during her eleven years; rug burns really hurt and took ages to go away. Her father had told her never to answer the door for someone she didn’t know, but Hope couldn’t help but think anyone who looked like that, could be someone capable of great evil.

She picked herself up off the floor and scurried towards the door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Hope tucked her body behind the slab of wood, only poking her head out to greet the man lest he tried to attack.

“Good morning,” he told her, eyes twinkling behind his glasses, “I’m looking for Remus J. Lupin, can you lead me to him Hope?”

“Hope,” she replied hesitantly, “he’s not here at the moment, he’s at work. Who are you? And how did you know my name?”

‘I met you once before a long time ago,” the man said kindly. “You were too small to remember me though.”

“What’s your name?” she repeated again, preferring to know a person’s name before she gave her father’s whereabouts to them.

“Albus Dumbledore, may I come in?”

“You’d best,” she said, widening the front door to let him in. “Dad works at the post office down the street and he’ll be home for lunch pretty soon.”

Dumbledore stepped into the stark living room and looked around. “It’s a very nice home you have here,” he commented.

Hope thanked him while inwardly blushing at his kindly lie. The cottage they lived in had originally been inhabited by her grandparents, both of whom had been dead by the time she was born eleven years previously. Therefore all the decorations and furniture were practically ancient and vibrating with mould and the musty smell of oldness. They never had enough money to replace anything though, food was the main priority.

“Do you want some tea?” she asked, feeling awkward in the company of Dumbledore. She didn’t really know what to say to him, he didn’t look like he’d have much in common with a prepubescent girl and she was dying to get out of there.

“That would be delightful,” he replied, his blue eyes twinkling. Hope found herself surprisingly jealous of his eye colour, she always wanted blue eyes but had been stuck with her plain mud-brown ones.

“Do you want sugar with it?”

“Yes, I allow myself only one vice.”

Hope nodded and hurried into the kitchen and busying herself with the process of tea making. She picked the least chipped and stained mug out of the cupboard and boiled the kettle, before soaking the teabag. She then proceeded to dump three teaspoons of sugar into the cup of tea, reckoning if the man only allowed himself one vice, she should help him make the most of it.

As she opened the bin to throw the teabag into it, Hope was surprised to find today’s copy of the Daily Prophet buried under an apple core and teabags. Placing the one she used for Dumbledore’s tea in the sink, she dug the newspaper out, silently wincing when she felt the rubbish brush against her skin.

Hope smoothed out the newspaper and was stunned by the headline. There, in inescapable bold print, the headline declared that a prisoner by the name of Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. Her eyes scanned the article, picking out words such as mass-murderer, betrayed the Potter family, and the line that baffled her the most, fervent supporter of You-Know-Who. What if you didn’t know who? Why couldn’t they just put his name down instead of confusing people?

The picture that accompanied the article was rather unnerving. It appeared to be an old photograph of Sirius Black when he was arrested. There was something rather animalistic about the man, him shaking his head and snarling as though he was a wild creature that had been forced into a cage. Maybe that was why her father had intercepted the paper and thrown it away, he didn’t want her to become scared when he left her at home by herself.

Hope suddenly remembered Dumbledore in the living room and rushed out with the tea, leaving the Daily Prophet on the kitchen table.

“Here you go!” she said, somewhat breathlessly thrusting the tea under his nose. “Do you want anything else?”

“No thank you,” Dumbledore chuckled, taking a sip, “this is more than enough”

At that moment her father chose to return home, alerting the house to his presence by slamming the front door shut behind him.

“Hope, where are you?” he called out, hanging up his coat in the entranceway.

“In here,” she replied, “there’s someone here to see you.”

“What have I told you about letting people-“he began, bustling into the cramped living room, his mousy hair dishevelled. However, when he saw Dumbledore seated in one of the faded, chintz chairs he stopped.

“Go outside Hope,” he told her softly, unable to take his eyes off the man.

“But I-“she began in protest.

“Outside now,” he said sharply, not in a mood to be trifled with.

Surprised by her father’s change in attitude, Hope slunk out of the living room and outside by way of the kitchen door. She crawled on her hands and knees around the side of the cottage, and positioned herself under one of the living room windows so she could hear their conversation.

“Hope?” she heard Dumbledore say.

“It was my mother’s name. What was I supposed to do, call her Walburga?”

“I suppose not,” came Dumbledore’s chuckled reply before sobering. “You know why I am here, don’t you?”

“It’s about him, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, their voices became indiscernible and Hope realised that someone, most likely her father, somehow had sensed her presence and casted a sound-proofing charm. Incredibly annoyed, she slunk away down into their back garden.

One of the good things about living in the Scottish Highlands is the unlimited amount of property you usually have due to the miniscule human population. The Lupin cottage had several acres, complete with a disused barn that Hope had been forbidden to enter, and Hope’s treehouse.

Her treehouse had been built in one of the few trees on their property, and was constructed out of planks of wood and a cardboard sign declaring it hers alone. Though her father had forbidden it, Hope had used magic to get the building materials up into the tree, thinking that if genetics had given you an advantage over others, why not use it.  
She jogged over to the tree and propelled herself upwards, using footholds on the tree. As she her gaze wandered to her house behind her as she climbed up, it fell on a dog that was watching her.

It was a large, bear-like animal and completely black. It was sat on its hindquarters, watching her intently, its gaze never seeming to waver or blink.

In shock, Hope lost her grip and fell out of the tree, landing with a gasp as her body made contact with the ground. She rolled over onto her stomach gingerly, wincing at the shock and pain her body was experiencing. She pushed herself up and stared around, the dog had vanished, nowhere to be seen. She had never considered herself to be a cowardly person but she found herself running back upwards towards the cottage, calling out for her father.

Hope stumbled into the living room and saw her father seated on a chair looking thoughtful. Dumbledore was gone.

He looked up and was somewhat alarmed to see the state she was in. “What happened to you?” he said, rising up to check her over.

“Never mind about me,” Hope said impatiently, “what did Dumbledore want?”

“Well,” he began nervously, “you know how I told you that when I was your age I went to a school called Hogwarts to learn how to be a wizard.”

“Yes I remember.”

“Dumbledore is the headmaster of Hogwarts and he has invited you to come now you are eleven.”

Hope felt like she had been slapped hard across the face. “What about you, you’ll be lonely. You only ever talk to me and I’ve never lived anywhere else but here, so I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

Her father smiled. “Don’t worry; I’ll be coming with you.”

“You’ve only ever home-schooled me but from what I’ve learnt from Enid Blyton books, you can’t bring your parents with you to Boarding School!”

“Well in that case you might be pleased to learn that Dumbledore has appointed me as the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Hope suddenly wished her the strange urge to go back in time and never open the door for Dumbledore. Her life was suddenly changing and despite her frequent complaining that their cottage in Scotland was boring, she had the sudden desire to run upstairs, curl up under her bed and never, ever leave.


End file.
